


Julian Bashir and the Masters of Evil

by agatharights



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Grown men being dinks, Holodecks/Holosuites, Slash if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agatharights/pseuds/agatharights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Miles can't play antagonist for his and Bashir's usual holosuite adventure, Garak steps in with a new game...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Julian Bashir and the Masters of Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god I can't believe this is the first thing I'm uploading to AO3. I could've posted lovingly described gay alien sex but instead I knew, I knew it had to be grown-ass men dinking around in a holosuite like complete twats.

"Sorry, Julian, but I already made the date with Keiko." The Irishman frowned apologetically at his friend, shrugging as the young doctor groaned in disappointment. "I’ll make it up to you later! I swear! Now, I have to get back to work-"  
  
"It’s all right, Chief." Bashir sighed, and theatrically threw himself back on a chair, spinning it. A few of other others in Ops stared at the display, some chuckling to themselves. "I guess I’ll just…have to use the computer’s villain." Sighing. "Even if it’s _hardly_ as interesting as your Falcon.”  
  
O’Brien let out a snort, at that. “Please, you’re just upset because I’m easier to outwit than a computer.”  
  
"Not in the slightest! The computer always sticks to the script, but I can count on you to-"  
  
"Make mistakes?" The Chief chuckled as he ducked back under the console, continuing in his unending repair project.  
  
"…To _improvise_ , Miles.” Bashir smirked, before sighing. “Alright, alright…but you _will_ be making it up to me later.”  
  
"If you can get Keiko to share."  
  
Julian smirked to himself on his way out of Ops. Disappointing, to have reserved a few good hours in the holosuite only to find that his villain for the day wasn’t going to be able to make it. He’d just have to make do with the computer’s simulation of wickedness.  
  
~  
  
"I’m just disappointed, that’s all. I got this fantastic new chapter for the program, and it just wouldn’t feel right to go through it without Miles." Julian absently complained to Garak, who was indulging him Doctor over lunch in his complaints.  
  
"Well, you can hardly blame him for wanting to spend time with his wife. No offense, my dear Doctor, but Keiko O’Brien makes a much softer sight for the eyes." The Cardassian smiled, disarmingly, as Julian glared.  
  
"…Thanks. _Really_.”  
  
"Now, now, Sarcasm doesn’t become you…" Garak smirked. "If you really don’t want to do the new chapter without Chief O’Brien, why don’t you use your time for another holosuite game? I remember you discussing how much you enjoyed some of the earlier chapter."  
  
"I’ve thought about it, but I really want to do something new. Something exciting! You know." Julian stared at his empty plate, then over to Garak’s half-full one. The Cardassian appeared deep in thought, eyes focused on some faraway point.  
  
"…you know…I’m free that evening. Perhaps I could pick a holosuite program I’m _sure_ you would enjoy.”  
  
Julian perked up instantly, looking over Garak with an inescapable grin. “Really?”  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"What are you thinking?"  
  
"Now, now, Doctor…if I told you, the fun would be lost. Suffice to say, I’ll provide the suit."  
  
~  
  
When Julian arrived for his allotted time, Quark told him to head right on in, that Garak was waiting in the suite for him, and he’d bounded up the stairs and into the holosuite. It was to his surprise when he entered into the apartment of one Bashir, Julian…super-spy in Her Majesty’s Service. Not what he was expecting, but it made him grin nonetheless.  
  
"Mister Bashir." Mona purred as she strode in, a suit on a hanger in hand. "Perfect timing, as ever. There’s a mission waiting for you." Handing the suit off to him with a sultry glance up and down his body, the holographic woman smiled and strode off. "I’ll be waiting in the limo, as soon as you’re ready."  
  
"Thank you, Mona." He chuckled, and strode into the bedroom with the suit in tow, looking it over. The material was smooth and fine, a rich and dark wine-red. Custom made for him. "Why Garak…" He muttered to himself, the Cardassian curiously not anywhere in sight. "…I guess I should add Holoprogram writing to your list of many talents."  
  
~  
  
A good hour later, Julian was sweating under his luxurious new suit, and grinning like a madman whenever he caught his breath. It had been an exhilarating game. A mysterious message from MI6, a plea from the Queen herself. A shadowy assailant creeping in through the window while his back was turned, resulting in a brief fight.  
  
Admittedly, he had been taken off guard for a moment when he found that the assailant’s blow actually stung, and after a hasty call to pause the program, he surmised that while the safeties had been lowered, they weren’t off. Fortunate for him. So he might get some scrapes and bruises, but at least the simulation wouldn’t kill him- although he realized he didn’t entirely trust Garak to leave him in a situation that wouldn’t have the potential for a fatality.  
  
The incapacitated Assailant had a bomb strapped about him, under his clothes, and there had been a truly magnificently choreographed escape out the window of his penthouse, landing on an awning below and sliding right into the limo, where Mona waited.  
  
Since then, it had been non-stop action, the only pauses to search for clues and solve riddles left behind in a madman’s wake of political assassinations on all sides of the conflicts.  
  
There had been a battle on the highway, where he’d had to peer out of the limo’s skylight with a rocket launcher to take down a helicopter decorated with a mysterious black symbol.  
  
An intense bout of gunfire and melee as he escorted the Queen herself to a safehouse during an assassination attempt (for which the older woman had rewarded him with a peck on the cheek that left him scarlet-faced.)  
  
The gradual gathering of clues, leading to an unsurprising revelation that, whomever this enigmatic madman was, they were in control of a far-reaching organization holding biochemical weapons capabilities over the heads of every major nation on earth.  
  
And it had all come to this, the infiltration of a heavily-guarded and lavishly decorated desert fortress, with the assistance of Mona.  
  
Or so he thought, before Mona’s gun rested against the back of his head and he slowly…very slowly, raised his empty hands. “..Oh, no, Mona…don’t tell me-“  
  
"Sorry, Mister Bashir…but I am simply a humble employee." The buxom valet purred, and he could practically hear Garak’s tone and inflection in her dialogue. It worked perfectly. "And that means that, on occasion, I must seek a job where I’m actually valued for _all_ my skills.”  
  
"How long have you been in with my enemies, Mona?" He hissed, and she chuckled.  
  
"The whole point of Deep Cover is make certain that your targets don’t know how long they’ve been watched. Now, move. Down this hall." She marched him down a long hallway, dimly lit, and they emerged into a spectacular chamber illuminated by crystal chandelier, perhaps best called some sort of…throne room, a massive chair raised up on a luxuriant golden-orange platform, the stairs draped with embroidered rugs of red…and the chair slowly spun.  
  
The big reveal was only slightly dampened by the fact that Garak sat in the chair, casual leaning back with effortless charm and his usual friendly smile. Although his clothes did give Julian quite some…pause. He wore a long, sweeping, black coat, high-collared and impeccably tailored to cut an imposing figure.  
  
The Cardassian ran grey fingers over the back of a sleek grey cat, and chuckled.  
  
"Mister Bashir. I was wondering when you’d get here…I was almost…bored."  
  
"And we can’t have that." Julian muttered to himself, looking at the expansive display of monitors and technology along the wall behind it, a truly decadent control center.  
  
"I am Doctor Obsidian…"  
  
~  
  
Miles O’Brien grinned to himself as he hurried up the stairs, adjusting his eyepatch. He knew he shouldn’t be so happy about Molly having a cold, but it had gotten his and Keiko’s dinner date cancelled at the last minute, and he’d heard form Dax that Bashir was still in the holosuite tonight.  
  
Eager to surprise his friend, remembering his hangdog expression when he’d had to cancel their game, he input the override for the Holosuite lock, and hurried right in. He’d only barely taken the time to get the costume for the assassin, Falcon, on and he’d reviewed the basic premise of the new chapter of the program on the way there…  
  
…so it was a slight shock to him when he stumbled into a warm hallway, and could hear Julian’s voice echoing down it.  
  
"You’ll never get away with this, you know…I’ll see your empire fall before it ever begins!"  
  
Now, Miles didn’t remember any mention of an empire…and he had a sneaking suspicion, as he rounded into a corner, that he was intruding upon something new. He scowled, as he looked over the scene in the decadent room, catching Garak in the middle of a monologue.  
  
"You still have a chance, Agent Bashir! The people you’ve chosen to serve will soon fall under my control…aren’t you tired of serving? Aren’t you ready to rule? There’s always a place in my empire for sharp minds like y…yours…" He trailed off, realizing the intrusion.  
  
Garak and Julian stared at him, their banter interrupted. Bashir was strapped to a leaned table, Garak hovering near him with a pistol. Mona stood nearby, on the defensive. Miles wondered if Holosuite characters ever got bitter about being killed.  
  
"…Do you - _mind_ -?” Garak said, after clearing his throat loudly.  
  
Bashir got a funny look on his face, like he was stifling a giggle, as Garak glowered at the intruder, and Miles took a deep breath and stepped in, glaring right back at the Cardassian.  
  
"…And just what is this?"  
  
"Miles, I was just"  
  
Garak interrupted Bashir’s explanation by clearing his throat and motioning to Mona, who pulled a gag out of a drawer without pause and set about approaching Julian with it.  
  
"Hey- wait-" he started, before he was muffled as Miles and Garak approached each other. He watched, curiously, as the sized each other out…and to his surprise, Miles…improvised, growling in Falcon’s overly harsh voice.  
  
"And just who are _you_.”  
  
Garak’s pause was only momentary, before he sneered. “Why, the infamous Falcon doesn’t know me…I’m sure I should feel comforted, if he were a /competent/ threat, as opposed to a two-bit murderer constantly chasing after Agent Bashir-“  
  
Julian watched, muted and with wide eyes, as the two of them circled each other, trading biting comments without hesitation. He couldn’t help but feel that things weren’t entirely…in character.  
  
"Admit it, Falcon. You’re simply jealous that, for once, you’re not a big enough fish for Agent Bashir to fry." Garak loomed over Miles, smirking, but growing tense in the shoulders.  
  
"And you should talk, you might as well have been putting up neon signs everywhere /asking/ for him to come and stop you." Snorting.  
  
"Pah! I figured that a rube like you couldn’t consider that it may be far more useful to use your enemies, then simply leave them in alleyways-"  
  
Bashir, instead, glanced over at Mona, and took a deep breath before smiling best he could around the gag. His former assistant glanced, and shifted her weight…before smiling slightly.  
  
Before long, Miles and Garak were screaming in each others’ faces, for lack of a better term, voices raised and tempers high.  
  
"You filthy Cardie, just what kind of game are you pulling, you knew that me and Julian were going to be doing this tonight and did you really think that I wouldn’t try to get here even if I were running late-"  
  
"Why, he positively jumped into a new adventure! What, are you jealous, Chief? I’m sorry that you might not be his preferred villain anymore, but-"  
  
"Boys, boys!" They both were pulled from their tirades by Julian’s clear voice ringing out, and they both looked up. Atop a large selection of computer screens, over Doctor Obsidian’s control center…Mona on his shoulder, a grenade in one hand, the chain of the chandelier in his other.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"Mona, you unreliable-"  
  
"You’re both very, very dear to me, boys, really! I’m happy to foil your dastardly plans, any day…but I’m afraid I have to blow." He flashed a charming grin…and pulled the pin of the grenade out with his teeth.  
  
Garak and Miles turned and fled down the hallway, as the explosive dropped into the control center, and Mona clung to Bashir as he swung down, and they landed effortlessly in a run as they powered down the hallway, the thunderous explosion behind them tearing down the control center.  
  
Bashir laughed.  
  
Miles panted.  
  
Garak wondered if he really was losing his touch, to get so easily distracted. And then he realized that the safeties were still turned down in the holosuite, and the building was collapsing around them.  
  
It really had seemed appropriately dramatic to program it to do so, at the time.  
  
~  
  
The three sat in Quark’s, bruised and scuffed, Julian’s new suit and Garak’s fantastic coat torn, Miles’ eyepatch missing…and quietly sat, each of them looking more at their drinks then at each other, shifting their weight in their seats.  
  
It was the doctor who finally spoke up, leaning back with a deep breath. “…You know, it would really be interesting to see how well Julian Bashir, Secret Agent, would be able to face down not one, but _two enemies_ at the same time…”  
  
Despite themselves, Garak and Miles found slow smiles spreading across their faces.


End file.
